“Jesus,” he rasps, his hand landing on my ass, gripping me hard.
I stroke him faster, loving the effect I’m having on him.
His other hand comes to my jaw and he directs my mouth back to his, bruising my lips with the kind of kiss that jumbles all my thoughts into a beautiful tangle. His ability to make me feel good about myself works wonders for my anxiety.
Winter lets go of my ass and grabs the collection cup. His lips leave mine, as does his other hand, which he shifts to his dick. Taking over from me, he finishes himself off, keeping his eyes firmly on mine until he has to direct his attention to the cup.
“Fuck,” he growls, coming and filling the cup.
When he’s finished, and the sample is safely stored in the brown paper bag he was given, he kisses me roughly and says, “I fucking love you.”
“Thank you for letting me do that. For helping me feel sexy again.”
His brows pull together. “You don’t feel sexy?”
I shake my head as I glance at the floor, feeling all kinds of weird now that I said that out loud. It’s absolutely dumb to admit to the man I’ve known and loved for sixteen years that I don’t feel sexy. This is just something I need to work through. And I’m sure I’ll go back to feeling normal after we’re done with IVF.
He tips my chin to bring my eyes back to his. “Birdie, talk to me. Why don’t you feel sexy?”
“Can we just forget I said that?”
“Fuck no. I want to understand where that came from.”
I hold his gaze. “You’ve gotta admit sex and IVF don’t go well together.”
“Yeah, but what’s that got to do with you feeling sexy? You’re the sexiest goddam woman I know.”
“All the ultrasounds, all the injections, all the cramps, all our arguments, all of it…. I haven’t wanted sex, haven’t wanted you to touch me. And when you do touch me, it’s to do the shots or to place the hot water bottle on me, or something to ease my pain. It’s dumb, I know, but none of it feels sexy or like I’m doing anything to hold your attention. I feel like all I do is probably push you away. God, I’m not explaining this very well.”
“Yeah, you are.” He pulls me close. “I’ve stopped touching you because I know you’re in pain, and I’ve stopped initiating sex because I don’t want you to feel pressured. But, angel, you need to know you have my complete attention. In all the fucking ways. To say I’m counting down the days till I can fuck you is an understatement.”
His words cause a wave of intense emotion to wash over me, and tears to fill my eyes. “Thank you. God, now I’m going to cry. I swear, these drugs are the fucking devil.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” he says, letting me go. “I have to get this sample to the nurse. Are you good for a bit?”
I wipe my tears. “Yes, go. No, wait.” I practically throw myself at him and kiss him again. When I’m finished, I smile and push him away. “There, now you can go.”
I need to know what I did to deserve a man like Winter, because I may need to do it again to ensure he stays mine forever.
14
Birdie
* * *
“What is that?” Cleo asks as she eyes the thing in my hand.
I hold it up, bringing it closer to the phone screen so she can get a good look. “That is a progesterone pessary, my friend. And later tonight, right before I go to bed, I shall insert it as far as possible into my vagina as I can.”
“And pray tell, why?”
I laugh at the expression on her face. I knew calling Cleo was what I needed tonight. Winter and I arrived home after the egg retrieval at around 4:00 p.m., at which point he had to leave and go to the clubhouse. He didn’t have plans to leave, but Ransom called with something urgent. I was fascinated to watch my husband go from his patient self to pissed the hell off in a matter of minutes. Not with me—with club business. It’s not normal to see his mood shift that fast and to that extreme. I kissed him goodbye and told him I was perfectly good here on my own, which was the truth.
It’s now 8:00 p.m. and I’m not feeling as great. I haven’t experienced any bleeding or cramping that the clinic mentioned may happen; I’m just really tired and feel like I’ve run a marathon. Calling Cleo was my attempt at making myself feel better and my plan is already working.
“They help prepare my body to support the embryo so it will successfully implant and grow.”
“Oh, okay, well that sounds good. Useful. Worth having to shove something up there.”
“Apparently they cause all kinds of mess, though. I’m not looking forward to that.”
“What? How?”
“They melt and leak out.”
“Good Lord, the things your kid will need to be made aware of when she’s older. I’ll be sure to tell her everything so she can be super grateful for the sacrifices her parents made to bring her into this world.”
Cleo’s decided we’re having a girl. Secretly, I’d love a girl, but I’m not fussy in any way. Winter likes to go back and forth with her whenever she mentions our daughter. He’s not fussy either, but I think he secretly wants a son, so he always brings up our son when Cleo brings up our daughter.
“So everything went well today?” she asks.
“Really well. I mean, I was pretty anxious to start with, but Winter helped me with that. And in the end, I just went with the flow.”
“How many eggs did they get? Do you know yet?”
“Eleven.”
“That’s good.”
“They won’t all make it, though. I’m trying to keep my expectations low.”
“Right. Good idea. It takes about five days from here, doesn’t it? Is that what you told me?”
“Yeah. I know it’s only five days, but it feels forever.” The doctor advised some transfers take place sooner, but I’m working on five days.
“You’re still taking some time off work, right? And, B, the correct answer here is yes, just FYI.”
“Do you seriously think Winter will allow me to go straight back to work? I’m taking tomorrow off and having a massage. I’ll also take the day of the embryo transfer off.”
“Good.”
“Okay, it’s your turn now. Tell me what’s going on in Cleoland.”
We chat for another half hour. She catches me up on Mark and Rocky, and how the two of them are having a standoff over Rocky’s love of peeing on their bedroom carpet. She also shares that they’re in discussions over when to start their family. I can tell she’s holding back from me a little, and for now, I let her, but once I’m done with this cycle and my headspace is back to normal, I’m going to be all over her about this. I never want her to feel like she has to tiptoe around her desire to have a baby with me.
After we finish talking, I take a shower and then insert the pessary. The nurse advised me to lie down for thirty minutes when I do it as that can help minimise the leakage, so I get into bed and watch TV. I’m almost through one episode of Queen of the South when Winter comes home.
I hear him in the kitchen, banging around in there for a bit before he appears in the doorway of our bedroom. Peeling his shirt off, he throws it in the laundry hamper and eyes me. “How are you feeling?”